


The Anticipation Of Spring

by Leshy



Series: Awakenings [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Brooke centric, Brooke is Hades, Brooke is a huge gay and im love her, Chloe is Persephone, F/F, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:45:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshy/pseuds/Leshy
Summary: Brooke has been told from a young age that she's an old soul.Old soul. Old eyes. Wise smile.They look at her and see the wisdom that comes with time, but she views time with appreciation.She views life with appreciation, because she knows death more intimately than most.you don't have to read Until He Burns to understand this, but it does fill out a couple of gaps





	The Anticipation Of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> ohhhhhhh boy guys this was......a challenge  
> I love brooke, but i also feel like i don't have a very good grasp of her character yet, same with chloe, though i did try to use this as a way to get to know her, and explore who i think she is as a person (and how her relationship with chloe came to be/developed)  
> it was a lot of fun  
> if u recognize the Heteronormativity Experience™ raise a hand

Brooke has heard that she’s an old soul from a young age. They tell her it’s in her eyes, some sort of unfathomable wisdom and weight only gained by time and experience. She’s only six, and it unsettles her every time some distant family member looks at her for an uncomfortable amount of time, before reaching the conclusion that,  
‘’Yes, an old soul, it’s in your eyes.’’ with the same pleasant smiles and nice-but-condescending eyes every single time. As she grows it only keeps unsettling her, it follows her like a shadow. No matter what she does or how she acts, it’s the same.  
Old soul. Old eyes. Wise smile.  
All except her grandmother. She looks at Brooke and says,  
‘’Oh to be young and carefree.’’ with a friendly smile and warm hugs and a glint in her eye that lets Brooke know she has candy in he pocket that’s specifically for ‘before dinner’. She makes Brooke feel young, feel like herself, like she’s supposed to be. Her grandmother is an earth elemental, the soul of a mountain rests in her bones and she moves slowly, but deliberately. She’s stubborn, but kind.  
‘’They look at you and see only the wisdom that comes from time, but you have something so much more special. Appreciation.’’ Brooke doesn’t really understand what she means by that, but it sounds so much nicer than what she’s always hearing form other people, that she doesn’t mind not knowing for now. There’s something in her telling her that she’ll know one day, and that’s good enough for her. For now she’ll just enjoy baking cookies with her Grammy, licking the spoon and sneaking chocolate chips when her mom isn’t looking.

Brooke grows up with her mothers concern over her naivety. Her mother keeps fretting over how nice she is, how kind, how forgiving, how pliant and soft. She’s always scared Brooke will be taken advantage of in some way or another, and she tries to teach Brooke how to tread trough life with caution, with strength. Brooke wants to believe the best of people, wants to believe the best of life. Then the game changes. When the boy, Gabe, in 3rd grade tells her he likes her pigtails and could they be friends maybe? Brooke says yes without hesitation. They play together every day, and they talk about pokemon and cartoons and books and just about anything that strikes their fancy. Then the whispers start. Gabe is a boy, Brooke is a girl. That’s how it works, right? She ignores them, because that’s what she’s always done. It’s not worth her time, what other people say behind her back. She tells herself she doesn’t care even when she does, but it’s so much easier to pretend they say nothing at all. Then Gabe kisses her on the cheek one day. She doesn’t understand. And he says that his parents have been asking if she’s his girlfriend, so is she? She says no, because she doesn’t understand what it means, not yet, but she doesn’t want it anyway. He doesn’t talk to her again. Brooke is cute, that’s no secret, Gabe won’t be the last. Brooke just wants a friend, but most of the girls think she’s weird and they boys don’t want a friend. She hangs around a few of the other girls deemed ‘strange’ and doesn’t mind that she’s always picked amongst the last for teams. No one says any mean things, not yet, because Brooke is nice and no one has a reason to be outright mean. Not yet. It comes gradually instead. As Brooke grows up, she is as cute and nice and friendly as ever. She draws attention from the boys and jealousy from the girls, because that’s the way the world tells them all it should be. The girls start ignoring her, and anyone else soon learn that Brooke is a one way ticket to being an outcast. She tries, oh she tries her best, to make friends. It doesn’t work, and she keeps on pretending it doesn’t bother her.

Brooke is 11 and trying to rebel. She doesn’t want to be old. Don’t get her wrong, being old is cool. It means you’ve lived a long life and done a lot of things and seen a lot of stuff. But she hasn’t done any of that yet. Well, 11 feels like a lot of years, but she has so much more ahead of her, and she feels like she’s missing out on something by being old now. She wants to be young. So that's what she is. She holds onto her stuffed animals, keeps wearing clothes in pastels with cartoon characters on them. Keeps watching the movies she’s always enjoyed, keeps acting…childish. Her mother scolds her, her father looks on in bemusement until her behavior is an inconvenience. When her childish ways are out of place at dinner parties or when they have guests over. The way she asks any other kid there, no matter their age, if they want to play games. The way she keeps messing with her old and won’t sit still and generally ignoring most of the more complicated aspects of etiquette. The thing is that it’s so easy to just not do what everyone else her age are starting to do. The girls are all worrying about their looks and which boy is the cutest and no one has time to play games anymore. She thinks it’s weird, because none of them actually care that much, she can tell, but everyone else is doing it so everyone else does it and so that’s how everyone thinks it’s supposed to be. And it’s so easy to just follow the flow of everyone else. Brooke sees the appeal, but sticks to her rebellious ways. As rebellious as wearing the softest trousers she can find instead of jeans, or how she sticks to light up shoes. Of course there are some who think it’s all stupid, and join her in playing in the sandbox or playing wizards in the forest or pretending to be faeries. Because it’s so much more fun. Because they’re in middle school and the game has changed again and more people are fine with being outcasts, because that’s their lot in life, they’ve come to learn, come to accept. There are still boys, who think being friendly is being something else entirely. Her favorite sweater is a light blue one with Stitch on it, and she wears her pink sneakers every day (they light up when she jumps), she plays in puddles and comes back to class dripping wet, she climbs trees even though she’s not supposed to, and her stuffed bunny is always in her backpack. Because Hopps is soft and light brown and always there for her.

Chloe transfers in at the end of middle school, and the game changes all over again. Because Chloe is very pretty, but she scowls at everyone and doesn’t talk to people and emits an aura of ‘don’t talk to me’. Of course Brooke ignores this.  
‘’Hi.’’ is a good place to start with any conversation, Brooke has found, it works this time too, getting the attention of the new girl who has been actively avoiding everyone on her first day. It’s late January, and cold, so Brooke is wearing her favorite hat with kitty ears and a bright yellow scarf.  
‘’No.’’ Chloe says, and tries to walk away. Brooke doesn’t reach out, because she doesn’t like it when people do that to her, but she speaks up,  
‘’I’m gonna build a snowman, wanna help?’’ she asks. This makes Chloe freeze, she huffs into her own dark blue scarf before turning around half way.  
‘’I’m pretty sure you can do that on your own.’’  
‘’Yeah, but the boys always knock down everything I make, so I need someone to stand guard.’’ she explains, shrugging as if it doesn’t bother her, but she doesn’t look Chloe in the eyes when she says it. Keeps them on the fluffy pompom on her head instead. It’s a light brown.  
‘’…Alright.’’ Chloe agrees. And then there they are, two 13 year olds playing in the snow. No one dares step close when Chloe glares at any unlucky kid who looks at Brookes growing snow creation the wrong way, and for once Brooke is allowed to finish it in peace. She stands back, admiring the two wonky snowmen she’s made, unwinds her scarf to place it on one of them, and takes her hat off to place it on the other. Chloe looks on with an indifferent face and curious eyes. It’s the beginning of…something. Brooke knows she is using Chloe, in a sense. Utilizing the way she keeps people at bay, and then keep using her as she draws people to her instead of Brooke. People stay away from Chloe the rest of their middle school days, and then as she gets older and prettier and even more unattainable, the guys flock to her in high school. Brooke is comfortable in Chloes shadow. Drawing people away from her, drawing boys away from her. That isn’t to say that Brooke doesn’t genuinely like Chloe, she’s a good friend, a great friend, the kind of friend she buys a BFF necklace with. The kind of friend who keeps that necklace well after they’ve grown out of things like that. But she’s still to some extent using Chloe. She follows her like a puppy, because it’s easy. She does everything Chloe does, everything Chloe wants her to do, she is who Chloe wants her to be, because it means she gets to stay with Chloe. Luckily enough, who Chloe wants her to be coincides pretty much entirely with who Brooke is. High school just requires that she has to start pretending that boys and gossip and what she looks like matters more than it really does. But she only talks about that stuff with Chloe, and sometimes Jenna, so it’s not like it consumes her day or anything. So it’s fine. It’s just…difficult. Because she’s never had to actually look at a boy and decide if he looks cute, or dateable, or anything like that. And it’s not easy. There’s this unspoken agreement that some of the boys at their school are just…hot. They’re desirable, and all the girls just look at each other knowingly. Brooke feels like she’s been left out of the loop on this one. She doesn’t have a good answer when they ask her if one of the guys have caught her eye yet. She feels weird. Like she’s 11 again, and she’s an outsider but doesn’t know what for. Besides, who needs guys when you’ve got Chloe Valentine.

Chloe draws guys like moths to a flame. She’s practically perfect in every way, Brooke has to agree, but then again she gets to see sides of her that no one else does. She gets to see Chloe laughing at stupid youtube clips and snorting adorably as she scrolls trough her twitter feed. She gets to see Chloe in the morning, disheveled and sleepy and no prying eyes. Chloe doesn’t put on a facade at school, but she is definitely more closed off. She shows no real interest in the boys who show interest in her, which is why Brooke is so surprised when Chloe gets a boyfriend. His name is Jake Dillinger, he’s the president of the model UN and the quarterback on the football team. He’s…practically perfect in every way. Chloe is the prettiest girl in school, and Jake is the handsomest boy. The world has told them all their lives that this is what it’s supposed to be like, so they follow the script that’s been written for them. Play their parts. Trace the paths that have been laid out for them to follow. Jake is nice, but Brooke can’t find it in herself to like him all that much. It’s not difficult to pretend otherwise. It also helps that it doesn’t last long. She doesn’t know what happens beyond ‘we decided being friends was better’, but she can appreciate how Jake actually knows the definition of ‘friend’. He’s much more likable after that. He also brings along Rich, a small lively boy with scars all over his arms and half his face. One day at lunch Rich calls over to two other boys, who make their slow way over to the table. They look awkward, and out of place, but Brooke smiles her brightest and Rich bullies them into taking a seat.  
‘’I-I-I’m Je-eremy.’’ one stutters out, and the other throws a protective arm around him and tells them,  
‘’And I’m Michael!’’ with a smile plastered on his face, and a dangerous force burning behind his eyes, daring them to say anything.  
‘’I’m Brooke! And this is Chloe, Jenna, and Jake. How do you know Rich?’’ she’d said immediately, as friendly as she could muster, which is pretty damn friendly if you ask just about anyone. She follows the explanation with rapt attention as Rich begins telling them.  
‘’I was totally about to freak out, and Michael sort of sensed it? I guess? And he calmed me down before I set anything on fire!’’ he exclaims, smiling.  
‘’Uh yeah, I’m sort of in tune with fire, so I could tell Rich was a ticking time bomb, and figured I should help. Accidentally setting shit on fire is the worst.’’ he laments, sympathy born form most likely having the exact same thing happen to him coloring his words.  
‘’Oh yeah! You’re like the sun or something.’’ Jenna says, drawing the attention of everyone.  
‘’Not even ‘or something’. I’m the sun, end of statement.’’ Michael explains, shrugging. Jeremy stays mostly silent.  
‘’Oh cool! I’m like, wind elemental.’’ Jake says, setting off the customary Awakened introduction round.  
‘’I’m the ocean.’’ Jenna says, throwing her glossy hair over one shoulder, smiling. It cascades like a wave around her.  
‘’We’re Unawakened.’’ Chloe says, gesturing to her and Brooke. Jeremys shoulders sink back down from up around his ears.  
‘’Me too.’’ he says in a small voice. Michaels arm is still round him. Brooke can’t look away. There’s this casualness to their touching, that reminds her of herself and Chloe. It only takes a week after that. Jake slings an arm around Chloe at the lunch table one day and Brooke feels a pang of hurt fly trough her chest even though there’s nothing between them. But there used to be, and Brooke had hated it. She loves Jake now, because he’s nice and a good friend, but she had hated him. And it had scared her. But she knows why. She’s in love with her best friend. Fuck.

Brookes Awakening is like a car crash. Sudden, unexpected, and with casualties. The casualty hadn’t been her fault, not really, but it had been central to her Awakening. Such was, is, and forever will be her nature. She’d been walking the hallway, quite calmly, just headed for her locker in between classes to get her books. Then something loud like an explosion had sucked all sound from the world, distantly she heard crows, and the image of the crowded hallway is swallowed by an inky void descending on her. Her feet lift from the floor, find purchase on a different plane only a few centimeters above, and her cardigan is flowing freely around her, her hair billows in an invisible wind, and the pressure of the void feels like water all around her. There is no sound, no light, nothing. And she feels lost, and scared, and all she wishes for is something familiar. Something safe. A voice calls from all around her, before all the small echoes gather into a familiar voice, shaping a familiar word.  
‘’Brooke.’’ calls the light, glimmering in the distance, like a beacon. She walks towards it, finds her steps becoming lighter and lighter as she makes her way towards the flickering source. As she moves closer the bright white dims, gives way to mossy green and slate gray. There’s something like a portal, and Brooke falters for a moment.  
‘’Brooke.’’ the unknown calls again. She steps trough. It’s nothing like exiting water, and much more like exiting slime. It sticks to her as she leaves, black clinging to her clothes and her hair, obscuring every single color except her light grey eyes. The room she finds herself in is a stark white, containing various machinery and a small frail woman lying in a bed. Hospital. The woman is obscured by pulsating light, the moss green and slate gray moving and twisting around each other. The mass of light turns to face her, and she didn’t know light could have a face, much less make expressions, but it looks happy to see her. Brooke catches a glimpse of the woman on the bed, and her already sluggishly beating heart freezes for a moment. She struggles to find her voice.  
‘’Grammy?’’ she finally manages, and her voice sounds like it’s not coming from her, but everywhere around her, a mass of small small voices sounding out the different parts of the word, all coalescing into something coherent. The figure of light looks at her, smiles, and it’s so familiar her chest aches.  
‘’Hi Brookie.’’ the light says, and Brooke doesn’t want to understand what has come to make so much sense to her. Souls are such unique things, a reflection of who you are. Her grandmother is a mountain, slate gray and overgrown with moss. Kind and unyielding.  
‘’I’m sorry.’’ she says, because she knows what she has to do next, because it’s what she’s always done. she reaches a hand out, black as the night, black as the void she travelled to get here. Her heart thumps a slow and steady rhythm, her breaths are calm and even, but deep down the part of Brooke that is still only 16, still only a child, panics. It doesn’t reach the surface.  
‘’Don’t be, it is my time, and I’d much rather it be you than anyone else.’’ her grandmother says as she reaches out her own hand, gray and wispy, a little translucent. The grip is firm, however, much more real than anything else in this otherly world. Her grandmother uses the connection between them to pull her in, giving her one last and final hug. It’s warm, and comforting, and familiar, and…safe. It puts Brooke at ease. Gives her peace with her own nature. She pulls away, smiles, and leads her grandmother by the hand back into the void.  
‘’I love you, you’re doing great.’’ Brooke hears from behind her, and she turns, still holding her grandmothers hand, only to find her gone. The grip on her hand vanishes as soon as she looks down, sees her hand is empty. She looks around, does a full body turn but sees nothing but the now familiar far stretching blackness. The weight of her surroundings settle on her form once more, and deep down she knows her grandmother is gone. She’s sad, of course she is, the threat of tears is overwhelming, but she is also at peace. Because she knows her grandmother is at peace. She knows. The sudden thought is deafening, because she knows she knows she knows, and it’s terrifying and an old well known fact, comforting in it’s certainty, scary in it’s finality. It’s part of her, part of life, part of the universe, part of everything beyond infinity. It’s too much all at once and she just needs to breathe, just for a little. Her legs buckle beneath her and she lets them fold. Sits down with her head in her hands and just…breathes. Lifetime upon lifetime retail her with memories. She is only one single iteration of Death amongst many. Only a blip on the timeline of everything. But she is here, and she is living, and she is sad. And that matters. She wants to find Chloe. Chloe is familiar, Chloe is stable, Chloe is a constant, not in the way her the knowledge her Awakening has brought her is constant, but in a way that 16 year old Brooke knows it to be. Chloe is a constant, because Brooke wants her to be, so she sticks close and holds on tight. Brooke takes a final deep breath, and lets out a sigh, her chest unwinds, her soul settles into the previously non-existing nooks and crannies of her being. The void around her settles into a rhythmic flow. She stands up, takes a step forward and finds herself back in the hallway at school. The people around her are staring, but nothing has changed. None has moved between her entering and exiting the other plane. She glances around, sees Jeremy and Michael looking at her, both a little worried. She smiles at them, forcing every single speck of light and happiness into it, just to soothe their frowns. Then she continues onwards. Her legs are a little shaky, a little bit like jello, but as she walks she fishes out her phone.

To Chlo<3:  
Pinkberry @ lunch?

From Chlo<3:  
Sure ;*

Brooke smiles to herself, pockets her phone, and stops in front of her locker. Her stomach is tying itself into knots and also filling with butterflies. If she’s honest she feels too queasy to actually eat anything, but she also has a feeling that Chloe will make it better. Because it’s Chloe.

‘’You look…different. I can’t pinpoint it but I know something’s up, so spill.’’ Chloe says as she meets Brooke outside. Chloe doesn’t stop however, just expects Brooke to follow her to her car, and of course Brooke does.  
‘’I had my Awakening earlier today.’’ Brooke says, finding no reason to lie.  
‘’What? Really!?’’ Chloe exclaims, whirling around to look at Brooke. She grabs her by the shoulders and stares into her eyes. Brooke freezes. Her grandmother might have looked like one would expect, but Chloe looks…anything but what Brooke could expect. She’s enveloped in thorny branches, twisting and curling all around her form, right beneath her skin, like a carefully carved piece of art. Detailed and curling, everyhting with an even rythm, twisting in patterns, her eyes follow them as if enhanced. Like a rose bush. A few green leaves are scattered all over, seemingly nonsensical in their placement but artistic nonetheless, but what really catches Brookes attention is Chloes chest. Inside a cage of thorns and leaves, a small shining bud rests. It’s the size of her fist, and it almost sparkles despite it’s translucent nature. Like a gemstone. It’s beautiful.  
‘’What?’’ Chloe asks, and Brooke realizes she’s been staring into Chloes eyes like an idiot this entire time.  
‘’Sorry, I’m still getting used to it.’’ Brooke explains, blinking a few time to rid herself of the vision, though it won’t leave her alone still.  
‘’It’s fine.’’ Chloe huffs, letting her go and continuing towards the car. Brooke smiles to herself, and follows after.

‘’Okay so like, god of death.’’ Chloe says out loud for probably the 100th time, sounding out the words, trying to wrap her mind around it. Trying to make the equation seem possible in her own head.  
‘’Y’know, I think it’ll probably be goddess of death, don’t you?’’ Brooke answers instead, a few paces in front of Chloe in the school parking lot, because she’s found no answer that seems to satisfy Chloes mind yet.  
‘’…oh yeah, totally.’’ Chloe says, yanking the door open as the warning bell rings. What catches their eyes immediately is a familiar red hoodie. Michael is standing pressed against a wall, Headphones on and hood up, hands shoved deep in the pockets and shoulders hunched to the high heavens as if he was Jeremy. Speaking of…there’s a noticeable lack of Jeremy. Michael looks up. It’s…chaos. Fire as far as she can see, raging and roaring, out of control. The sound is deafening, the light is blinding, and for a moment she can smell scorched earth. Something jostles her shoulder, and she breaks eye contact.  
‘’We need to find Jeremy.’’ Brooke says, and she doesn’t even know if it’ll help but they need to do…something. And Jeremy is their best bet.  
‘’I’ll text Jenna.’’ Chloe says immediately. She pulls out her phone, fingers tapping away at lightning speed. The answer is almost instantaneous.  
‘’He’s at…play rehearsal?’’ Chloe says, and Brooke can’t look away from Michael. Hunching further and further in on himself, looking like he can’t decide between bolting or collapsing.  
‘’Find him.’’ Brooke hears herself say, taking a step closer to Michael, and her voice is echoing slightly, and usually she would never ask Chloe like this. As if she’s telling her what to do. But Michael is in trouble, and she wants to help. She doesn’t see Chloe walk off as much as she feels it, her eyes are trained on Michael, the world melting away around her, becoming fuzzy and distant. The people between her and Michael form a natural path towards him, but pay her no mind. Halfway across the hallway he looks back at her, and she is swallowed by the flames once more. In the midst of the swirling yellows and oranges, a small red figure sits, curled up and shaking.  
‘’Michael?’’ she asks it, but it only curls up tighter, the roaring only becomes worse, the heat is almost unbearable.  
‘’Michael!’’ a different voice yells, and this one has another effect entirely. The small red figure whips around so fast, the entire vision seems to get dragged away from her, swooping out to the side and leaving her windswept, disoriented. She turns her head. Jeremy is jogging down the hallway, Chloe not too far behind. Michael has turned his head, his eyes are fixed on Jeremy. As soon as he’s within hearing range, Michael breaks.  
‘’Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.’’ he whispers, over and over. But Jeremy simply shushes him.  
‘’You’re good dude, come on.’’ Jeremy says, putting an arm around Michael. Michael reaches up for the hand draped over his own shoulder, grips it like a lifeline. Brooke eyes are glued to their hands, before Jeremy draws her attention once more.  
‘’Thanks for coming to get me.’’ he says, looking first at Chloe, and then at Brooke. It’s the first time he’s looked either of the in the eye properly. Grey. Like the remnants left from a forest fire. Not cold, per se, but like the absence of warmth. He turns back to look at Michael, and the vision is gone, the smell of smoke lingers in her nose until they’re out of sight.

After that it’s not like she actively seeks out eye contact with people, because it seems like something…private. But she doesn’t stop it from happening either. Jake looks across to her at the lunch table, and she feels a gust of wind whip around her. Light blue and lavender swirls twist around each other in miniature tornadoes, rising and falling. When he laughs it sings, whistles, and it’s warm like summer. She wonders what it looks like when he isn’t happy, but lets the thought leave her as quickly as it entered. Rich looks at her in their shared English class, and he’s a lot like Michael, but also not. There is fire, yes, but it’s smaller, more contained, more human shaped. It’s burning away happily, redorangeyellow twists and turns just beneath his skin. There are dark maroon marks echoing his scars all over his arms, his torso, stretching up his neck to his ace and partially down his legs. It makes him distinct, makes him stick out. She learns the feel and shape of their souls quickly. Not as quickly as Chloes, but almost. She can pick them out of crowds, spot them from across the building. It’s an odd mix of nice and creepy. Jenna is a marvel. Her soul swirls in bright cerulean pride, water calm and complacent for now. Brooke has seen how dark and stormy it can be when Jenna gets angry, but mostly she is content. Brooke has to admit, however, that her favorite form of Jennas soul is when she’s happy. Then she is a bright bright seafoam green, rays of light catching on the small disturbances of her surface casting out a magnificent light show. It’s hypnotizing. Their little group is an odd mishmash of people. Friends of circumstance. But they sort of…fit anyway. Their colors and shapes blend together to make a tapestry of familiar sensations, and Brooke happily surrounds herself with them. Brooke doesn’t really feel like they’re missing something. Someone. Until Christine. It started with Jeremy, like things never seem to do. Because Jeremy is quiet and stays out of everyones way, much like Michael does, but just…to a bigger extent. But he had gone to play rehearsal, and he’d met Christine. Christines soul is a lot like Jeremys. Muted, grey, a little more glow-y. Dormant. It gets fuzzy around the edges, as if it continues, but she just can’t see it yet. But sometimes it flares so bright Brooke fears she’ll go blind. Christine slips into their lives at the end of freshman year, and somehow, it’s like she’s always been there. Like it’s always been Michael-and-Jeremy and Christine.

Sometimes Brooke catches herself staring at Chloe. It’s not like it’s unusual, Chloe is very pretty, but now that she’s grasped the whole soul thing, and doesn’t have to focus on the clearest path to the soul, the eyes, she can see them whenever she wants to. Or whenever her mind wanders too far. Her mind is a one track kind however, and it usually only wanders as far as Chloe, and then there she’ll be. Thorns and thorns and thorns and the slightest hint of pink. Chloes perfume is a muted slightly spicy one, but the scent that wafts from her in moments like these, is pure summer sweetness. Wild roses. And in one of these quiet moments it hits her. She’s been enamored by flowers lately. Of course she’s always liked flowers, who doesn’t? They’re pretty, and colorful, and smell nice. They’re a sign of spring, of warmth, of happiness. But recently she’s been actively seeking them out. Taken a specific path to school to pass by the wall purple climbing clematis flowers, or purposefully walked by the flowershop at the mall to let the colors and shapes wash over her. Not too long ago she was craving pomegranates. She realizes how blind she’s been to the inevitable. Chloe is, for a lack of better word, blossoming. Very very slowly. But she is growing into the person she’s meant to be. Persephone. She’s almost there too, almost reached herself. Rich catches her staring trough a wall one day in the middle of sophomore year.  
‘’Whatcha lookin at?’’ he asks, staring at the wall. The blank very much empty wall.  
‘’Chloe.’’ she answers distractedly.  
‘’What?’’ he asks, pure confusion in his voice.  
‘’I can see her soul, it’s really pretty.’’ she continues, not even the slightest bit aware of how creepy that sounds.  
‘’O…kay?’’ Rich says, leaning back in his seat a little, switching from staring at the wall to staring at her.  
‘’Yeah, it’s all flowery and pink and nice.’’ Brooke sighs, almost dreamily, completely gone.  
‘’Flowers? Like…Persephone?’’ he asks, hesitantly. She finally looks away from the wall, attention snapping from Chloes gentle distant soul to the burning inferno next to her.  
‘’How’d you figure that out so quickly?’’ she exclaims, incredulous.  
‘’Greek mythology?’’ is the only answer he gives, and she can only sigh and put her head in her hands.  
‘’Don’t tell her.’’ she begs, not looking at him.  
‘’She needs to grow into herself like everyone else, you know that.’’ she continues on. She can see the moving twisting fire nodding rapidly in her sideview.  
‘’Of course! I’m telling the other though.’’ he says casually, and Brooke can only let her head fall to the desk with a dull thud.  
‘’That’s fair.’’ she says. He isn’t kidding.

‘’Brooke can see our souls!’’ is the first thing he says as he sits down at lunch.  
‘’What? Really!?’’ Jake turns to her like an exited puppy.  
‘’Uhhhhhh…yeah?’’ is the only reasonable answer she can give.  
‘’No way! Is that part of the whole death goddess thing?’’ Michael asks her next. She nods.  
‘’I guess? I see best trough peoples eyes, but once I get a good grasp I can spot people from across campus.’’ she explains, smiling as the enthusiasm seems to grow around the table.  
‘’Do you mind sharing?’’ Jenna asks her, and she appreciates the way it’s framed. The obvious curiosity, but the subtle hint that Jenna will make sure everyone respects it if she doesn’t want to tell them anything.  
‘’Not at all! It’s pretty self explanatory? Like, Rich looks like fire. All glory and burning. Michael kinda looks the same but like, with more light? Like he shines instead of glow, and he’s bigger.’’ it’s difficult putting it into words, she finds, because nothing can compare to the way she sees Rich flame flare at the comment.  
‘’Hey!’’ he yells, obviously taking it as a slight against his height, but all in good fun. He’s smiling even before he’s finished that one single word. Brooke giggles as she tries to keep going,  
‘’You look like an ocean in a human shaped container. Not even just water, more like…. like a piece of the ocean passing trough a human shape?’’ she directs it at Jenna, who smiles and nods knowingly. Her eyes travel to Jake next.  
‘’Jake you look like…you know Pocahontas?’’ Jake nods gleefully,  
‘’Well you kinda look like the colors of the wind, you know? Like, blue and purple, really light shades, all twirly and nice.’’ Brooke waves her hands around in the best rendition of the intricate dances Jakes soul performs on the daily.  
‘’That’s so cool!’’ he exclaims, giving Rich high five.  
‘’What about me?’’ Chloe asks, and Brooke feels her heart skip a beat. What should she say? IS lying okay? She shouldn’t tell Chloe what she suspects (what she knows, it has to be the truth, her heart yearns), it might alter the flow of things, Might make Chloe choose a different path, become something (someone) else. Awakenings are tricky things. You travel down a road all your life, and you have to choose which path to follow, each path leads you somewhere, and most of the time you end up where you’re supposed to be, one way or another. You grow into your Awakening. You grow into who you are. Chloe isn’t ready to be Persephone yet, and if Brooke upsets the growth of the bud, it might wither and die before it even blossom. She can’t take that risk.  
‘’You’re Unawakened, so I can’t see much? But it has something to do with nature, definitely. I can see vines of some sort, twisting into a human shape. It’s very pretty.’’ she lets that last comment slip out before having thought it trough completely. But Chloe had looked a little disappointed as Brooke and explained. She just wanted to make her feel better. She’s saved from embarrassing herself further by the arrival of Jeremy and Christine.  
‘’And them?’’ Michael asks as Jeremy settles down to his right, Christine claiming the seat at the end.  
‘’What?’’ Christine asks, looking to Michael and then to Brooke.  
‘’I can see peoples souls, and everyone here is a nosy fucker.’’ she says, but her tone is light and playful, her lips upturned.  
‘’And you and Jeremy are still Unawakened, so I can’t see you as clerkly as I can the others, but you’re…silvery gray. Glowing and sometimes blindingly so, but mostly fuzzy. Jeremy looks kinda similar, grey and fuzzy. Sometimes you feel really cold though.’’ she finishes, staring at Jeremy who is staring at her eyebrow instead of her eyes. She can only tell because it somewhat obscures the view of his soul.  
‘’Cool.’’ he says. And that’s all.

One Wednesday morning in September, she catches Jeremys eye across the hallway. She expects the usual. Grey. Fuzzy. Ash. Smoke. Instead she’s met with a human shape, burning to cinders from the inside. Flaking and smoking, like a campfire. Glowing orange cracks and hollow eyes. She walks towards him without hesitation. People let her pass, and she melts the world away until they can talk in private. She knows who he is. She sees him. She knows who he burns for, and it strikes a chord with something ancient in her being.  
‘’I see you.’’ she says, her voice echoing only slightly in this in-between place she calls upon.  
‘’I had the dream night to Monday.’’ he says, and she can see the traces of his burning on his soul, like handprints. She feels Brooke slip away, lets the other part take over, the one who’s from the same place as the other part of Jeremy.  
‘’You’re burning, like last time. Are you really going to do this to yourself all over again?’’ she pleads. He is her friend, no matter what, and it hurts to see him suffer like this, even for something as pure as love.  
‘’Yes. What else can I do?’’ he asks her, and she feels at a loss, she might know many things not many others know, but she still doesn’t have all the answers. She knows this is who he is, but she wishes he could b it differently.  
‘’Are you happy with this?’’ she asks instead. Her voice is so much more steady than she feels.  
‘’It means I’m by his side, and that’s where I’m meant to be, isn’t it? Destiny…or some shit.’’ she sees the sadness and acceptance in his eyes, and can only give him an equally tight smile in return. She dips her head down once, in acknowledgment. Everything carries so much more weight in this space.  
‘’Take care of yourself.’’ she wants to plead, to beg, but it comes out almost monotone, but she sees he understands the gravity behind the words.  
‘’Any progress with Chloe?’’ he derails, and she can tell if they were not in her domain, he would have taken this opportunity to finally break eye contact. She’s happy he doesn’t, beaches she wants to keep talking, but the thought of Chloe lets her mind drift anyway. It’s hard not to. When similar longing echoes in him as well.  
‘’No, she is still Unawakened, but I sense her growing closer every day. It’s only a matter of time before Persephone returns to me again.’’ her voice carries as if on a breeze, like a dream. It has been a month, and the rest of the gang knows what she is waiting for. Jake had told her Chloe was on the brink of something, but couldn’t tell her what. It feels like she’s holding her breath, waiting. Jeremy has gone from a gentle smile, to a twist of the lips, drawn brows, contemplating.  
‘’Will you do me a favor?’’ he asks, finally.  
‘’If I’m capable.’’ she answers, truthfully. She is capable of many things, things her friends don’t even know, but then again she will do what she can to help them.  
‘’Watch over him? If anything happens?’’ he begs of her, his soul yearning, worrying, twisting and being over itself in glowing orange streaks. Her heart aches for him, aches for lovers in general. She knows the story all too well. She knows human nature oh so well.  
‘’If anything happens, you’re the one who should be watched over.’’ she tries to reason, tries to bargain, tries to ask him to please ask her to look out for him as well. She wants to so badly.  
‘’Maybe, but please? If only to put my mind at ease?’’ the hand he places on her arm is warm, and she can only find it in herself to nod once again. He smiles, so bright, and the orange glows so strongly she fears she might get singed. The bell rings, and her eyes dart away from him. The bubble shatters.  
‘’I’ll see you at lunch?’’ she asks, and he promises. He keeps to that promise, and at lunch she can’t keep her eyes away from him. Every time Michael comes close, the orange glow grows stronger, reaching, yearning. But Michael never gets close enough to make the connection, even as she sees his soul reach back for Jeremys in a strange yet beautiful dance. Only once does Michael brush against Jeremy, and Brooke sees the orange glow, sees it radiate and reach, before it is stopped by something invisible, a barrier of Jeremys own making, as it turns back on itself and sears trough his skin, outwards. Jeremy doesn’t flinch. Icarus cries.

Michael almost dies. And then Jermey almost dies while reviving him. But they both survive, so it’s fine in the end. She visits him, in that in-between place, as he sleeps.  
‘’Jeremy.’’ she asks him, but the only response is the glowing orange sphere pulsating slightly. It’s enough of a sign of life that it puts her at ease, but it’s still abad sign. She sighs, equal parts fond and exasperated.  
‘’You’re an idiot…but I know how you feel.’’ she confesses. She closes the vast distance between herself and the orb with a few strides, she settles down next to it, feels the warmth radiating from it, like a candle.  
‘’We’re all worried about you, about what you did. Michael the most of course.’’ at the mention of his name, a pulse of light shoots out. She giggles.  
‘’You sap.’’ her smile falls away slowly, sitting in the nothingness next to a nearly dormant core isn’t exactly her dream Saturday, but right now she finds there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. Well okay, there might be one place, but she knows Chloe is waiting for her for when she returns. She reaches out one hand tentatively, lets it ghost across the orange surface. It looks like molten glass, but feels uneven, feels alive.  
‘’We’re waiting for you, wake up soon.’’ she tells him. The orb glows a little brighter, and she smiles. Taking one step forward she finds herself back in the hospital waiting room. Jenna and Chloe are sitting in the chairs in front of her, Michael is pacing off to the side. When she steps back into their plane of reality, his attention snaps to her immediately.  
‘’Is he okay?’’ are the first words out of his mouth. She almost feels like smiling, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards.  
‘’He’ll be fine.’’ she promises. It’s true, she can’t feel him calling to her yet, not even in the slightest. It’s reassuring.

The blazing reds and oranges of autumn give way to the muted colors and softness of winter. Jeremys Awakening has made it’s mark on their lives, an explosive way to kick off their junior year, but soon enough it’s all just background noise again. Life goes on. Brooke looks at Chloe and sees the bud, still oh so tightly shut in its thorny cage, and figures her best bet is spring. Springtime reawakens the world and the flowers will bloom and the earth once again sprouts green and life. How quickly she forgets why winter exists in the first place. She’s dragged Chloe along to the park, two scarves (one bright yellow, one dark blue) and two hats (one with kitty ears, one with a pompom) stuffed in her bag. Her cheeks are already a rosy red from the chill, but her hands are warm in their gloves, warmer still with one tucked into her pocket and the other with a steady grip on Chloes hand. She's smiling, laughing, talking a mile a minute about why winter is amazing. Why she loves the snow, and the stillness of the land.  
‘’Figures you’d like the world at it’s deadest.’’ Chloe remarks, and Brooke laughs.  
‘’I’ve always viewed the seasons as a phoenix.’’ she says, and Chloe only lifts an eyebrow. To anyone else it would come off as cold and uninterested, but Brooke knows it means she wants her to explain, she wants to know.  
‘’Well spring is re-birth, right? Then summer gets warmer and that’s like, life. Then there’s autumn and all those yellows and reds and oranges and that’s sorta like a fire, and then everything dies. Then there’s winter, which is colorless and quiet, ashes, death. But like, it’s not death? It’s just…’’ she pauses, freezes in her tracks as she tilts her head up, letting her eyes travel the vast expanse of cloudy sky. There’s no trace of blue, just a light fluffy grey stretching endlessly.  
‘’Hibernation!’’ she finally exclaims, resuming her pace towards the open field of the park.  
‘’Because at the end of winter spring always comes, and that’s re-birth, and so the cycle continues over and over and over into the endless eternity. Like a phoenix.’’ Brooke finally finishes. Chloe says nothing.  
‘’So yeah, I guess I don’t like winter in itself, as much as I like the promise of spring that comes with winter. But I like the anticipation of spring more than spring itself? If that makes sense? Then again, winter also has snow, and snow is amazing.’’ Brooke says, finality and conviction in her voice, and Chloe can only smile crookedly, a small shake of her head jostles some of her hair out from where it’s stuck underneath her scarf.  
‘’Brooke, never change.’’ she simply says, and Brooke turns to her, smile radiant and eyes shining with that light that Chloe has only ever seen in Brookes eyes. Like a glimmer at the end of everything. Like a beacon at the edge of eternity. It’s something one can easily get lost in.  
Brooke has finished snowman number one, and plopped a kitty hat on its head, twirled a bright yellow scarf around the connection between the torso and the head. She found two pinecones for eyes and traced a stick in a curving line to form a smiling mouth. She’s finishing the head of snowman number two, cradling it in her hands as she regards it, eyes scanning for unevenness. Finding none, she places a light blue hat with a fluffy pompom on its head, and settles the dark blue scarf lovingly on it’s barely there shoulders. She picks up a few small rocks to form buttons down the front, finds two bottle caps for eyes, traces a smirk onto the snowy face with the tip of her glove. She takes two steps back, admiring her handiwork. Then the gaming flaw hits her and she turns and heads off for the forested edge of the park.  
‘’Where you going?’’ Chloe calls from the bench, sitting on a picnic blanket and cradling a thermos of hot chocolate. Brooke twirls around, still moving towards the edge, and calls  
‘’Arms!’’ before finishing the twirl and jogging towards the trees. It doesn’t take too long to find a good pair of stick arms, she just needs to dig a little around the bushes. One pair down, one to go, she thinks to herself. She spots a nice looking stick and pulsate it. It’s slightly stuck, but with a hard enough tug it comes loose from underneath the bush. It pulls along another stick with it, and she stands there, holding one and looking at the dangling one that followed, judging it’s size. She smiles to herself, moves to pull the two sticks apart when an even better idea hits her. She rushes back over to the two snowy figures. Correction; three snowy figures. Chloe looks a little frozen and a lot done with the cold.  
‘’Almost done!’’ Brooke promises, brandishing the four sticks proudly. As soon as Brookes back is turned, Chloe lets the fondness overtake her expression. She watches brooke attach one arm to the small snow-Brooke, and then one arm to the small snow-Chloe, and she’s about to ask why they both only have one arm when Brooke starts attaching the arms in between them. She’s made the two little versions of them so they’re standing relatively close to each other, it’s a pretty cute tradition they have, not that Chloe will ever admit that out loud. But she knows it’s important to Brooke, so here she is. When Brooke steps back to join her, standing next to the bench and admiring her artistic creation, Chloe blames the flush in her cheeks on the cold. They’re holding hands. The snowmen. The arms in-between them are two sticks tangled together at the ends, and Chloes chest floods with warmth.  
‘’It’s perfect!’’ Brooke nearly yells, shattering the delicate silence of their small winter wonderland.  
‘’It is.’’ Chloe can’t help but agree, quietly. She looks at Brooke, offers a cup of hot chocolate, watches as she takes it gratefully, closing her eyes in bliss as the drink warms up her insides. It’s Brookes grandmothers recipe, because that’s tradition too. Brooke sits down next to Chloe, leaning into her shoulder and just looking at her creations with a small satisfied smile. Chloe can’t tear her eyes away from the way Brookes golden hair frames her face. Her warm eyes, her cute nose, her soft lips. Chloe has the urge to reach out and touch her cheek, just to check if it’s as smooth as it looks. Something in her chest melts, warmth spreading, blooming, reaching for her fingertips and her all the way out into her toes. Her heart is seized by something squeezing tight tight tight and for a second it’s as if the cold winter air is unbreathable. Brooke turns her head towards her. It’s like the world melts away, all that’s left is Brooke. Brooke and her warm kind knowing eyes and her soft kind knowing smile and her beautiful face and her hand reaching for Chloes own face. Time and space looses it’s meaning, not that it had much to begin with, as Brooke stretches her arm out fully across the few inches between them. There’s a warm breeze caressing her, making her hair billow and she’s dressed in all black but she looks oh so alive, Chloe thinks she might be dying. That’s it. She can’t breathe and she’s dying and Brooke is there because that’s what she does. Chloe catches herself thinking she’s happy Brooke is the last thing she’ll ever know, and then she remembers that breathing might help the whole not dying thing. She gasps, her lungs expanding, there’s the sweet taste of wild roses on her tongue. Chloes hans makes contact with her face.  
‘’There you are.’’ she says, her voice echoing endlessly across the vast space between them, but it feels like a whisper against Chloes ear. And she understands.  
‘’Here I am.’’ she answers, and it’s like her voice breaks the spell, suddenly they’re back on that park bench, swaddled in winter clothes and their faces so so close. Brookes hand is warm on her cheek. She leans in.

The crazy thing is, it tastes like pomegranates. It tastes like the chilly morning air of early spring, it tastes of the warm summer nights, it tastes of…everything Brooke has come to associate with Chloes soul ever since she could see it. But best of all, it tastes like Chloes chapstick, and the hot chocolate, and it smells like slightly spicy perfume and that one brand of conditioner Chloe really likes because it makes her hair really really soft. It’s brushing against the hand Brooke has on Chloes cheek. It’s one of the few things that still feel real.

Chloe leans back, staring at Brooke, and Brooke can only stare back at Chloe. Then her face breaks into the widest grin, and she giggles. Brooke lifts her hands to try and stifle it, stuffing her face into her scarf muffles it somewhat but she still giggles helplessly. It’s adorable, and it only makes Chloe break out into her own fit of giggles, she tears her eyes away from Brookes beautiful face to try and get it under control, and her eyes catch on something green. She stops laughing. There’s no snow on the bench. There’s no snow on the ground actually. Underneath the bench there’s a perfect green circle surrounding them, and from the green green grass all kinds of wildflowers have sprouted. They’re in full bloom, a sea of color and scents and the breeze is playing with them, swaying them back and forth in an unheard melody. Brooke has gotten her giggling under control, and is looking at their little patch of spring with a smile that’s both fond and extremely proud, overflowing with joy. She glances at Chloe, whose face isn’t as slack and shocked anymore. She's got that signature crooked smile that kinda looks like a smirk but isn’t really one.  
‘’I fucking knew I was a queen.’’ she says, and Brooke breaks out into helpless giggles all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> my writing tumblr is @actual-cryptid-leshy (it's v dead atm sry)


End file.
